Life in the Fishbowl
by Rose DeWitt Bukater Dawson
Summary: A glimpse of how it felt to be trapped in high society. ***My FIRST published fanfiction!***


**A/N: Hello everyone! :)**

**This is actually the first fanfiction that I have EVER published, so I'm a little nervous* (*okay, I'm actually VERY nervous... there are butterflies in my stomach right now). Your first story on FanFiction is kind of like your first impression. (I'm hoping that this first impression will be a good one!)**

**A thank you to RikkiChadwick2011 for helping me with the decision of what fanfiction of mine to publish first. :)**

**I dedicate this story to my parents, who gave me the "go-ahead" to create this account and who always encourage me and love me. :D**

**Enjoy! I hope you like this little one-shot! :)**

**- Rose :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Titanic. (Titanic belongs to James Cameron.)**

Some of the people may have scoffed if they'd been told that high society was a lot like a fishbowl, but they were living in that fishbowl themselves.

Well, only half of their self would live in it. The other half of their self would be on the outside, looking in at everybody else.

Yet sometimes, it felt like _all_ of you was crammed inside the bowl, and people were always watching you from the outside, noticing the littlest things simply because they had absolutely nothing else to do.

Rose DeWitt Bukater knew that feeling.

It seemed like people were always peering in at her, wondering why she was the way she was, and then gossiping about her. All they did was gossip; they had nothing else to do for entertainment. They'd look at the things that made her unique, then trash them because if you weren't cut out of the same cookie cutter as everybody else, you were bad. And if someone was bad, people would notice. People would talk. People would point and whisper and made rude little comments, because let's face it, even though they were at the top of the society layer cake, they could be just as mean and nasty as everybody else below them.

The worst part was, nobody cared. It was the thing to do, so no one ever spoke up about it or stated it was wrong. So you would have to just deal with being the fish-out-of-water of the group. No one was going to help you up after you'd fallen down.

It felt so horrible, being the focus of the fishbowl. It made you feel embarrassed and stupid and, worst of all, helpless. Helpless because even though you knew deep inside that it was all wrong, there was nothing you could do to fix it.

They were so nosy. They felt like they just had to look into the bowl and point out things. Things that the people involved wanted to keep quiet, and the watchers knew that, but to them, juicy gossip beat integrity any day. And because of the bowl, people indeed found out about those little things that were supposed to be hush-hush. Everyone knew about the Astors' "scandalous" marriage, not to mention Madeleine's "delicate condition." Everyone knew about Mr. Guggenheim and his French mistress. Everyone knew the dirt on everybody else.

You couldn't trust anybody at the top. The people who seemed to be your friends were the same people who told your biggest secrets behind your back.

What was weird was that everyone wanted to listen to other's secrets, but they didn't want anyone to find out about their own. Her own mother spent her teatime chatting about so-and-so and so-and-so but she guarded her own secret like it was a precious lost artifact or something that would destroy her if it was ever unearthed.

Was there a reason she was born into the fishbowl? Had she been chosen for a reason? Had God made her a part of this life because she was strong? She didn't feel strong. In fact, she felt close to giving up. What was the point of dealing with it anymore? All people did was stare stare stare, point point point, whisper whisper whisper. She was sick of it. She was sick of the fishbowl.

If only there was a way of cleaning the fishbowl. Wouldn't it be wonderful if she could wipe away all of the hurt and gossip and start with a fresh new bowl. But there was no point in dreaming of this; even if it was possible, which it wasn't, the fishbowl would just get dirty again. Every word and every look would be another piece of dirt or grime to add to the bowl and to help make it disgusting all over again.

She decided right then and there, if she couldn't clean the bowl, she was going to take herself out of it. She was going to leave this stupid little contricting fishbowl and go on to the big ocean in the sky, where there was nothing to feel but love and nothing to say but "I love you", where the possibilities were truly endless, and where she could head out for the horizon and do what she wanted- not what society wanted, but what _she_ wanted.

Because enough was enough. This fishbowl was something that Rose no longer wanted to be a part of. She had been trapped in it all her life and she couldn't take it anymore. She had to go. She had to jump into the ocean and be free.

And, of course, the news would be one more thing to drop into the fishbowl and gossip over, but by then she would no longer feel it, and so it wouldn't even matter.

This little fish was going on to a better place. A place where she would be accepted by everyone. A place where she could finally be herself. A place where she would finally be able to accept who she truly was; not some porcelain doll, but a unique person with feelings and hopes and dreams and ideas.

A place where Rose DeWitt Bukater would belong.

A place outside the fishbowl.

**The End**

**A/N: Okay, I've done it... I've officially published a fanfiction! :) I hope that you liked it!**


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